Chapter Text
That morning Peter woke curled up on Deadpool's ratty sofa, a half eaten pizza lying in it's open box next to him, and he decides that fuck it. No school for sad Peter.
Instead he pulls out his phone, opens tumblr (he can't stop himself, it's ruined his life) and scrolls until he feels a little less like he's going to die if he gets up. Ugh, mornings. Gotta hate 'em.
Eventually, his growling stomach makes him stand, and he wanders over to the kitchen. Deadpool doesn't seem to be in, but he figures he's alright making them a little something to eat.
Going in, it's--okay, there is no nice way to put it--it's a mess. There are dirty dishes stacked up that look like an experiment in growing mould, suspicious stains everywhere, and food that looks like it's been rotting for at least three days. At. Least.
Well.
Peter understands that Deadpool has more than his fair share of issues, so he's not judging that much.
But still, he is ... considerably less hungry than he was before he'd gone in the kitchen. But he knows what to do; his Aunt didn't raise him without manners, so when he spots a bottle of washing up liquid covered in dust, he gets a-cleaning. Plus it's the perfect repayment for his breakdown and needing Deadpool to look after him when he fell through the warehouse.
He tries to not think about the warehouse, though, because he does not want to think about how much his Spidey-sense had been set off. There was one obvious answer as to who had caused it to go haywire, and he was not letting himself acknowledge that the guy who had patched him up and helped him through his breakdown was the same guy who had been torturing someone. Nope, no way.
"Heyyyy, Petey!" Wade yells, stamping his way through the door, "I brought us breakfast burritos!"
"Oh my god, thank you! You just saved my life!" Peter yells back.
They smell good, and Peter has to remind himself to dry his hands (on his suit, eugh, but he can't see any clean towels around) before he ends up with a dishwater flavoured burrito.
"This is so much better than dealing with my friends," he mutters to himself around a mouthful of burrito.
Deadpool raises an eyebrow that shouldn't be visible through his mask. Seriously, how does he do it? "You're ditching your friends to hang with me? You have some messed up priorities there, baby boy."
"You're my friend too, y'know. Even if you are a total dickhead when it comes to Mario Kart."
And if he gets a noogie for his kind words, it's worth it for the happy little grin Deadpool gives him.
When Peter leaves, there's nary a worry in his head. He's in a--in a foolishly good mood and nothing will stop him. Or, at least, nothing short of Gwen, Harry, and MJ standing in front of his front door.
Uh oh.
"Hello."
Oh no. MJ is never that pissed off at him.
"Uh....... When we go inside, I was hanging with you guys, okay? Then after Aunt May is out of hearing range we can uh, discuss, uhm. Whatever this"--Peter waves an arm jerkily--"is."
MJ nods. "Fine. Gwen, Harry, come on."
With that she grabs Gwen's hand and strides into Peter's house, yelling a greeting in Aunt May's direction, Gwen walking alongside her, and Harry following behind like a lost duckling.
Well. Harry never did hear about the whole trans thing and expect Peter to suddenly stop not coming to school and getting lots of mysterious injuries.
Peter rushes in behind his friends. "We're gonna hang out in my room, Aunt May!"
"Don't just stay holed up in your room. Get them to have dinner with us at least!" she yells back.
"Fine!"
And then he's in the proverbial lions' den. Which just so happens to be his familiar bedroom. Which has a--
There is--
Oh dear.
His bedroom is not hiding one of his Spidey suits.
God damn it can I never do anything right?! he thinks, mentally hitting himself upside the head, and, unknown to him, physically rending his hoodie--Deadpool's hoodie--to shreds while staring right at the incriminating evidence.
"This," Gwen begins, once his bedroom door closes, "is an interven--Peter are you okay?!"
"Nnyyes!" he says, hyperventilating slightly.
Harry turns around and looks at him, one eyebrow poised high on his forehead. "Peter?"
Oh, shit. Harry doesn't know.
"Uhhhhh." say Peter, MJ, and Gwen at once.
"Well, you see..."
"It's kind of a long story."
"Uhhhhhhhhh."
Harry desperately looks at the floor as he realises what just happened. And his eyes land on Peter's Spidey suit.
"Pe--eter?!" Harry says, staring at the suit.
Gwen and MJ turn simultaneously. "Peter?!"
Oh no.
"It's not what it looks like!"
Gwen shakes her head furiously as if to clear her mind. "This is--this is exactly what it looks like!"
Harry turns around. "I have no fucking clue what's going, but that is what it looks like."
MJ is the last to react. "So......you, puny Parker, the total nerd with no athletic ability whatsoever, are Spi--"
Peter hushes her furiously, "Sshhhhhh!"
"--You're Spider-Man?!"
Peter. Peter is. Uh, having a few, uh, technical difficulties with his brain.
"I. Uhh. Em. You--err. Nno?"
"Yeah," Harry mutters, "you have me convinced. Spider-Man? In here? No way."
Peter groans like a dying whale and flaps his hands around. "Shut up, asshole."
There's a silent moment where everything is finally quiet, and then Gwen, the literal devil, asks, "So, Pete, who's clothes are you wearing?"
"Nope!" Peter shoves his hands over his ears, "This is all just a really bad dream!"
"Penny, what's going on in there?"
"Guh! Nothing, Aunt May!"
He grimaces. That name always feels so wrong.
MJ grabs his hand comfortingly. "Sorry," she says, face twisted in sympathy.
"Sooooo," Harry says, "you're trans?"
Peter nods.
"Knew my gaydar wasn't broken with you." he says, and.
Wow.
Harry--Harry just. Did he practice being casual when important things were announced?!
Peter lunges at Harry for a hug with all the grace of a baby giraffe. "Thank you, bro."
"Don't sweat it. So, Peter and he, him pronouns?"
Peter nods, and he finally feels free. Ta ta for life, keeping secrets from friends.
Harry clears his throat. "So, who's the man? You've gotta tell us what kind of boyfriend Spider-Man has."
And there goes the blushing. "Well--uh, we're just. We're just friends, yanno?"
MJ raises a perfect eyebrow, "Just friends? Why aren't you in your own clothes then?"
"Fine, okay, I was on patrol, so--so we hung out after, and I ended up skipping school, but I couldn't just go home wearing the suit. So Wade leant me his clothes like good friend."
No particular stress on that last word, no sirree.
"Wade, huh?" Gwen smirks, "you have a superhero 'friend' called Wade. And what's his other name?"
"Uh, uhhh, well--" Peter clears his throat, "um, he's. Wellllll, um. Deadpool."
"Don't know him," MJ and Gwen say, perfectly in sync.
Harry, on the other hand, is paling rapidly. "Deadpool?! Of all the possible--Deadpool is who you choose?!"
Peter meeps quietly, and nods.
"Do you know what he does?!"
Another meep, with a shake of his head.
Harry looks him dead on. "Peter, he is a mercenary. He kills people for money!"
Oh no.
"But--he's so nice to me..."
Peter thinks he's going to throw up.
At least he doesn't still feel bad for lying to his friends.